A Hunter's tale
by Crazyrebelscarves
Summary: She gave him an incredulous look and moved to stand right in front of him, lifting her hand and placing it on his chest, right over his wildly beating lamia-heart. "I'll always be right here". Morgead's view on Huntress.
1. Searching

**Hullo Night World fans. **

**This story - the Hunter's tale - is Morgead's view on huntress. I know, I know - it's been done before. Still, a lot of what I've read has not done my favourite Night World couple justice, and so I though I might give it a try. I can't say it's perfect, not by any means, but then, nothing ever really is.**

**Read and enjoy, please. **

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><p><em>Night World – Jez and Morgead<em>

_**Chapter 1 **_

_**Searching**_

"Where's Jez?"

Raven's voice was amused, without the slightest hint of worry. The gang was gathered by the edge of Muir Woods, eyes shining with excitement for the upcoming hunt. They were all here, tall Raven Mandril with her short black hair and midnight-blue eyes; child-like Thistle Galena with the body of a ten-year old and feather-blonde hair; Pierce Holt with his dark-blonde hair and cool persona; big, loud Valerian Stillman and, of course, Morgead Blackthorn himself, with shaggy black hair consistently falling into emerald green eyes. Everybody was there – except Jez. Jezebel Redfern, with wild, red hair and silver-blue eyes did, despite of her unpredictable nature, rarely ditch the gang. Sometimes she would run errands for her uncle, Bracken Redfern, but she would always let the gang know beforehand.

Still, they weren't worried, and Morgead shrugged nonchalantly at Raven's question.

"Is she out of town?" Thistle looked at Morgead questioningly, and he shook his head, raising an eyebrow at her.

"She wasn't in school today either" Pierce was leaning against a tree, cool eyes directed at Morgead, who just shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"She's hiding from us, isn't she?" Val spoke loudly – he always did, and then roared with laughter, "what did you do to her Morgead?"

He eyed Morgead with humour in his grey-speckled eyes, and Morgead's eyes instinctively sought out Jez's, an exasperated expression on his face – until he remembered that Jez wasn't there. He sighed, and surveyed the people – vampires – in front of him.

"So…?" Thistle looked at him with a bright gleaming in her eyes, waiting for him, Morgead, the second-in-command, to come to a decision.

A wry smile spread across Morgead's face.

"We search"

And search they did.

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><p>"Jez! Jez? Jezebel?"<p>

Morgead landed lightly on his feet, looking around the abandoned shed. He hadn't been here in years, not since he and Jez were little kids, but he thought he knew why she might've gone here. It was a place full of good memories, from back when it was only the two of them, back before everything got so… complicated.

Morgead's eyes swept over the place, his senses ultra-alert as he listened for the slightest sound, his mind searching for the familiar consciousness that was Jez Redfern. He frowned slightly when he didn't find anything living in the shed, save a couple of rats, which quickly scattered as their animalistic instinct told them that Morgead was a danger. Smoothing out his frown, Morgead put on booted foot on the ladder, resolving to search the shed, in case Jez was blocking her mind, and hiding somewhere in there.

"Come on Jez. It isn't funny anymore"

And it wasn't. It had been, at first. The gang had enjoyed the game, making a competition out of who could find Jez the fastest, they had laughed as they searched the woods and the city, trying to guess where she might've hidden.

After two days the game had stopped being funny, and quickly become annoying. What was Jez _doing_?

She wasn't in the shed. He'd realized this as soon as he'd sat foot there, but after a thorough search of it he was absolutely certain. A small twinge of worry knotted in his stomach, but he quickly pushed it down. This is Jez, he told himself, Jez Redfern. _The_ Huntress. Nothing can take her down.

But the knot of worry wouldn't go away.

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><p>"Anyone found a lead?"<p>

Morgead looked expectantly from one gang-member to another, his stomach sinking as each of them shook their head. None of them had found any sign of Jez. The small twinge of worry grew in his stomach, and his frown reappeared as he tried to reason it out.

The problem was that it didn't make _sense_. As unpredictable as she was, this was extremely unlike Jez. She was fiercely loyal, and out of all the gang-members she would probably be the least likely to ditch the rest.

"What now?" Raven's one visible midnight-blue eye looked at him, and he saw a reflection of his own worry in her eyes.

"I think" Morgead stared into the distance, the knot in his stomach twisting painfully, "I think that it's time we ask Bracken Redfern".

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><p>"What do you mean, 'isn't she with you'?"<p>

Morgead was staring at Jez's uncle Bracken, silently willing him to take back his words, to laugh even, anything – anything that didn't mean that Jez was really gone.

"I don't know where she is. She just- disappeared".

And had it been anyone else, Morgead probably would've grabbed them and shaken them until they had given him answers. But this was Bracken Redfern, Jez's uncle, and his expression was so lost, so sad… He really didn't know where Jez was.

Morgead's stomach dropped. The knot of worry exploded into gut-wrenching fear, and he could _feel_ the colour leave his face. Because if Bracken didn't know where Jez was… If he didn't know and the gang didn't know…

Jez was really gone. And she was either dead – Morgead winched internally at this – or she had walked out on them. Left. Like everyone else. Like his mother.

And Morgead didn't know which was worse.

The only thing he did know was that Jez was gone, and with her, Morgead's only real security, his only real light and warmth.

She was gone, and, he realized, she had taken apart of him with her. And that scared him as much as it angered him.


	2. Hurting

**Hullo, my dearies. Thank you so very much for the reviews, it got me writing lots faster. Funny how those can give you a special kind of drive, eh? **

**This chapter is the fighting scene, so it might not be as essentially _Morgead _as I would've liked. It's hard to write down thoughts when they're practically killing each other, you know. Either way, the next chapter up will be the one where they discover they're soulmates! I can't wait to write that one, but it'll probably take some time before it's up. I'm sorry. I just have a lot going on here in the summer, but I'll do what I can! **

**Read and enjoy, please!**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2 – Hurting<strong>_

_About a year later_

Morgead collapsed on his futon, fully clothed, not even bothering to pull of his boots. He had been out with the gang, and it had been fun. Exhilerating even, in a way it rarely was to him anymore, not since… but he wouldn't think of that, wouldn't think of _her_.

Still, the night had been fun, but there had been an odd feel to it. Finality, Morgead thought, it felt like something was ending. He yawned into the soft pillows, and drifted off, pushing all unwelcome thoughts out of his mind.

_A flashing smile. Wild silver-blue eyes. Long, red hair. _

"_Come on!"_

_Jez was standing in front of him, as she had been the last time he'd seen her, with red hair flying around her beautiful face and blue eyes dancing. She nudged him with the tip of her booted foot, then threw her head back and laughed again, her face wild and dangerous and so beautiful that it almost made Morgead's throat hurt._

_"Jez?"_

_To his embarrassment her name came out as a disbelieving croak. She just rolled her eyes and gave him one of her _looks_, one of those that clearly said 'you're-so-slow-Morgead'. _

"_Who else?" And she laughed again, and Morgead thought that he'd never heard anything so amazing in his whole life. Sudden fury mixed with the joy, and he sat up with a jolt, glaring at her. _

"_Where have you _been_?"_

_She gave him an incredulous look and moved to stand right in front of him, lifting her hand and placing it on his chest, right over his wildly beating lamia-heart._

"_Right here" she said, and looked up at him trough dark lashes, an emotion in her eyes he'd never thought he'd see on her, "I'll always be right here."_

"Morgead"

A quick thought flittered trough his head; _just a dream_, it seemed to say, _she isn't here_. But his eyes flew open and he shot upright, staring at the girl – woman – in front of him. Silvery-blue eyes with more pain and determination than he had seen in any person beside himself, beautiful red hair that was right now tied into a bun on top of her head. She's here, a part of him sang, the part that focused on the light that had suddenly slipped back into his life, instead of… the darker part of him assessed her quickly from head to toe – and found nothing. She had grown, yes, and filled in nicely in all the right placed, but she was healthy and well, aside from the pain in her eyes. Morgead's own heart contracted painfully.

"Jez"

"Hi, Morgead"

"You came back"

"Apparently"

Suddenly he was overcome by anger, and he stood up in one fluid motion, his eyes burning into hers, his mind seething with anger at this… this _girl_, who'd caused him so much pain, so much worry and hurt, for no apparent reason.

"Where the hell have you _been_?"

He was staring at her furiously, scarcely noticing the fighting stick in her hand.

"I can't tell you"

_She can't_… His fury rose at those words, she couldn't _tell him_? After everything she put the gang trough, put him trough, and she couldn't _tell him_? He wanted to shake her. He wanted to grab her and smack her and _make_ her tell him. He deserved to know, damn it!

"You can't _tell_ me? You disappear one day without any kind of warning, without even leaving a _note_… You leave the gang and me and just completely vanish and nobody knows where to find you, not even your uncle… and now you reappear again and _you can't tell me where you were?_"

Dimly, he noticed the surprise on her face, the quiet uncertainty by his demeanour.

"What did you think you were doing, just cutting out on everybody? Did it ever occur to you that people would be _worried_ about you?" – that _I_ would worry about you, he thought.

"That people would think you were _dead_?" – that _I_ would think you were dead.

She looked startled, he noticed vaguely, like what he'd said actually hadn't occurred to her. Stupid girl, his mind raged, stupid, _selfish_ girl. He was so caught up in his own fury, that he almost missed her words.

"Look, I didn't mean to hurt anybody. And I can't talk about why I went. But I'm back now- "

He cut her off. _Back?_ She thought she could just come back, after everything, as if nothing had happened. Well, he would teach her differently.

"You can't just come back!"

She was loosing her temper, he knew her well enough to see that. Some distinct part of him was surprised that it had taken her this long. Hotheaded Jez Redfern was even easier to rile up than Morgead himself.

"I know I can't just come back-"

No, apparently she didn't. She didn't _understand_. Morgead was so angry; he was surprised he hadn't attacked her yet. Instead he'd started pacing, racking a hand trough his black hair every now and then, and desperately trying to find a way to _explain_, to make her _see_. He turned to glare at her.

"Because it doesn't work that way. Blood in, blood out. Since you're apparently not death, you abandoned us-"

A part of him cringed away from those words, even as he said them, and the same part, the part that was weirdly dethatched from the rest of him, realized that she _had_ abandoned them. Abandoned _him_.

"- You're not allowed to do that! And you certainly can't expect to walk back in and be my second again- "

"_I don't!_"

The yell startled him, and he realized he's almost forgotten she was in the room, right there next to him. A jolt went trough him at the thought, but he pushed it away, refusing blank-out to feel anything but anger and betrayal.

"I have no intention of becoming your second-in-command. I came to challenge you as a leader".

Morgead's jaw dropped. He stared at her incredulously, shock, confusion and, though he tried to deny it, a little bit of hurt coursing trough him.

"I was leader when I left, remember".

Morgead had to fight the urge to shake his head, half in angry shock and half in endearing amusement. _Only Jez_, he though, only Jez would be crazy enough to challenge him for the leadership _now_.

"You… have got to be… joking" he pressed out each word, still sufficiently baffled and also still hoping against hope that she'd laugh it off and tell him that, yes, she had indeed been joking, "you expect to waltz back in here as _leader_?"

She stared defiantly at him, "If I can beat you. I think I can. I did it once"

_Twice_. The thought flitted trough his head before he could stop it. She'd beaten him twice. Still, to think she could now, after all this time… Oh, she really was crazy. He threw his head back and laughed, though not because he found it amusing. It was a very emotional laugh, he thought, a bit disgusted by him self. A laugh that was anger and bitterness and hurt all in one. He stopped abruptly and looked at her, assessing her now, not as Jezebel Redfern his friend whom he might be furious with but who was nevertheless his friend, but as an opponent. And enemy.

"Yeah, you did. I've gotten better since then."

"So have I."

And then they were at it. Morgead shifted into a fighting stance, reaching behind him to snatch the fighting stick of Japanese oak, his favourite. He shifted it in his hand, immediately knowing that he wouldn't use the sharpness of the burned end, but instead disarm her. It was more humiliating that way anyway.

So he went for her wrist. And she blocked, tried for a trap and failed. He saw the startled, half-worried look on her face and smiled mockingly at her. He'd told her he'd gotten better.

_But this is Jez. She won't go quietly. _He swatted away the voice in the back of his mind, the same voice that was telling him not to hurt her.

"You're so predictable, Morgead" he almost grinned when she spoke. This was Jez, _his_ Jez. The Jez who mocked him while they fought, riling him up even more, making everything intense and passionate. He was so caught up in his recognition, that he almost missed the leg-sweep, but he did block it, and then tried for a trap. Which didn't work. He looked at Jez with a brief searching glance. She had been right too; she'd gotten better.

"Oh yeah?" a taunt for a taunt, he thought, "and you hit like a four-year-old. You couldn't take me down if I stood here and let you."

They circled each other, their feet whispering across the worn floorboards. Morgead couldn't help but think of the many times they'd practiced together here, tried each other to become better, harder. He owed much of his fighting-skill to the hours he'd spend with Jez, preparing for exactly the kind of fight they were having now.

Jez grinned at me, though the expression was more similar to a predator baring its teeth at an enemy, than an actual smile.

"Next you're going to try for a head strike" her voice was cool, almost calculating, "because you always do."

"You think you know everything. But you don't know me anymore", he winched internally as he said this, because if she didn't know him, that meant he didn't know her, "I've changed."

He saw an opening and for a headstrike, only to be blocked by Jez, the wood clashing with a sharp _whack _as it connected.

"Psyche" he said.

"Wrong" Jez told him, and then, before he knew what she was doing, she'd twisted her stick and gotten control of his, holding against his thigh and grinning at him, "Trap."

Morgead swallowed. They were standing very close, their gazes locked. Her eyes were just as beautiful as he remembered them, though they somehow seemed more blue than silver. Then he blinked and twisted out of the trap.

"Don't try _that_ stuff", he growled angrily.

"What stuff?" she asked, and thrust it towards his eyes. Morgead deflected it, putting all his anger into the hit, and staring at her with angry, green eyes.

"You know what stuff! That 'I'm Jez and I'm so wild and beautiful' stuff. That 'Why don't you just drop your stick and let me hit you because it'll be fun' stuff."

"Morgead" she thrust towards his throat, and he blocked "what are you" towards his temple, and he evaded "talking about?"

"That's the only way you won before. Trying to play on people's feelings for you. Well, it won't work anymore!"

He countered her strikes and thrust with what he knew, someplace in the back of his mind, was unnecessary force, force he should save instead of use up on a small series of counter-strikes and blocks. Then his back hit the corner, and he stared furiously into Jez's blue eyes.

"Hey, all's fair, right?" her voice was deadly soft, and it took all of Morgead's self-control to keep his eyes from widening, not with fear, but with a mix of anger and hurt. She really was cold-blooded. "And what do you mean, it won't work? I've got you haven't I?" He blocked a couple of attacks, but it was pure instinct. His attention was focused inward, on his Power, which he was gathering in a ball of anger.

"You're caught, and you're going to have to let down your guard sometime" she told him sweetly.

"Unless I do something unexpected"

"Nothing you do is unexpected"

He saw her eyes waver, as if she knew she'd made a mistake. He saw the determination there, as she shifted her grip on the wooden sword, preparing to strike again.

That was when he released the dart of Power he'd collected in his mind.

Jez was pushed back, as if by an invisible force. He could see her struggle for balance, as astonishment and confusion showed on her face.

"It's not that hard," he told her, even as he moved out of the corner, onto the open floor. Her eyes flickered to him, and he smiled coldly, "It's something I discovered after you left. All it takes is practice."

He saw some emotion flicker across her face, too quick to determine.

_Whack._ Their swords collided, but it was a week block on Jez's side. She was off balance and hurting.

"As you said, all's fair" he smiled at her, readying himself for another Power let-out, "you have your weapons, I have mine."

And then he let out the Power-dart, watching as she almost lost her balance, and – there. She'd let down her guard, and Morgead took the chance. He drove upward, catching her stick from below, then twisted and swept her stick in, forcing her off balance, trying to get her to fall. As she struggled to counter, he struck her elbow.

_Wham!_

Jez let out a small gasp of pain._ Don't hurt her! _The words echoed trough his mind, and Morgead almost dropped his stick right then. Jez was clearly in pain, and something inside Morgead twisted as he watched her desperately struggle for control of her arm and – _what the hell? _His eyes widened furiously. He would not show mercy to this _girl_, who hadn't cared about him, who'd left him and used his feelings against him. Damn her for making him waver!

He advanced at her, deadly furious, at himself as well as her. He had her now, as much as she'd had him in the corner. He whacked his stick casually twice, and caught her in the ribs, watching as her face scrunched up with pain. This time he completely ignored the twisting of his heart and the dropping feeling in his stomach.

_Whack-wham_. Her knee. He was crowding her against the wall, and in her current state, there was nothing she could do to stop him. He smiled at her.

"You can give up anytime now" he told her, "because I'm going to win, and we both know it."


End file.
